Mr chef makes the world's
nose to have a continious
whiff,
of an aromatic delicacy,
after gulps of various wine,
an inebriated said
'today is the best day i wish to tip-toed home',
like rainbow on the land,
people decorates my street with their designer dresses,
and their happy heart,
to celebrate a born-star,
various cacophonic voice
continue to echoe in the air,
which are of good wishes.
Some brought gift,
some pour liquor on me,
some ask for gift,
some help with what i need,
but the fun went on,
when its time to dance,
i was draged in the middle,
of a colourful circle,
we chorus in unison,
wet in sweat and with liquor,
our well packaged hair turn tousled,
some glistened lips change form,
and we all party hard,
like never before.
It's march 12 again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem